Determination

by Angela B. Macala-Guajardo

  Her mom’s words made Roxie felt sick to her stomach. She almost turned to leave, but she didn’t want to give up so easily. “I wanted to see you. To talk to you. I’ve loved you my whole life, even though I’ve never known you.” God, those words hurt so much right now. “Please spend just a few minutes with me.”

  Mom gave her a thoughtful frown mixed with scorn and curiosity.

  Roxie felt like she was her mother’s prey granted the mercy of a few last words before she devoured her. She swallowed, wondering if her mother would try to do anything. At this point she wouldn’t put it past her.

  The darkness at Mom’s shoulders vanished like someone had used a dimmer to turn the lights up. The hospital room looked normal, no red tint in the sunlight. The hospital itself still felt creepy, and Mom’s presence did anything but make Roxie relax. Mom said, “Fine. I don’t know what you expect from me, but you’re not getting any motherly love.”

  “Why do you hate me so much?” Those words made her feel even more nauseous. That was a question she never thought she’d ever ask her own mother. “I never did anything to you.”

  “You. Stole. Charlie from me,” Mom said, exasperated. She held her fists tight at her sides.

  “How?”

  “Once we learned that you’d been successfully conceived, he started loving you more than me.” Mom began pacing around the room. She gave Sekiro one heavy glare, then proceeded to knock items off countertops and whatnot whenever she drew close to a loose object. “I can see it all so clearly now. Charlie married me just to have you. ‘Cause once my belly started swelling, he started talking to my belly more than me. Kissing my belly more than me. Bought gifts for what I was lugging around in my belly more than for me.”

  “That’s not true,” Roxie said, her voice coming out small like a child’s.

  Mom spun in place and gave her a maniacal grin that would’ve been complete if she’d had fangs. “And how would you know? You weren’t even born yet.”

  “I met his soul in the spirit world right before I came to see you.”

  “Oh, of course. See him first.” She threw her arms up, then continued her destructive tromp around the room.

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  Mom halted again. “Oh, really?”

  “Sekiro is guiding me. I have to follow her lead or these sha--”

  “Roxie!” Sekiro said, then stepped closer and more mouthed than whispered, “Don’t mention the shadow people.” She turned to Mom, who glared at them suspiciously. “Dana, I’m her Guide. I’m the one who decided to bring her to see Charles first. She had no say in the decision.”

  Mom rolled her eyes, then began pacing back and forth in front of the partially drawn window. “What a convenient copout.”

  Roxie flinched. “If you don’t even love me, then why do you care that I saw him first?”

  Mom gave her a cold look. “It just confirmed my assumption that loving you would’ve been a waste of time and energy.”

  “No, it wouldn’t.”

  “Uh huh. Sure. You had me going when you told me that you wanted to talk to me. And then you really had me going when my attempt to scare you off failed. But no. Your dad took first place over me. Now it’s clear there’s no point, which is too bad.” She crossed to the foot of the disheveled gurney and stood there. “I did feel something for you after you were born, but it wasn’t enough. Charlie was my world. You were alive and he was gone. I wanted to be with him more than I wanted to be with you. I did what I thought would reunite me with him. But now I’m stuck in this self-made hell and I don’t know why I can’t get out. Now go away!”

  Roxie stood rooted in place. Her mother had more or less confessed that she’d felt a scrap of love towards her. That was all she needed to have some closure. She wanted to walk over and give her a hug. Heck, maybe that’s what she should do. Her mom had clearly buried her soul in bitterness and cynicism, a victim of her own lies to herself. Maybe she could help fix that and help her mom move on. “Dad didn’t know you were dead until I told him. He really broke down. He still loves you.”

  Mom let out a bitter laugh. “Guess this mean’s we’re not soul mates since we’re not together in death. Those must’ve been fake tears.”

  “They weren’t! You didn’t see him. He totally shut down. His Guide and I had to coax him out of it.”

  Mom looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Are you sure he was crying about me? Are you sure he wasn’t crying at the sight of his dead daughter, all lost and scared? Hm?”

  Mom thinks I’m dead? “I’m not--”

  Sekiro held up a hand and shook her head. “Energy...”

  Roxie thought a moment, then realized Sekiro was trying to protect her. She hastily revised her answer, focusing instead of figuring out how to get her parents back together. Even though they’d never be a whole family of three, it’d give her solace to know her parents were happily reunited in death. “He was crying about you. And me too, but that’s beside the point. He honestly still loves you.”

  Mom glared at her with so much hate. The blood all over her smock and hair made it hard to hold her intense gaze. “Did he bawl my name over and over? Did he even say it once?”

  Roxie tried to recall the fragments of conversation verbatim. “No. He’d...” She stopped talking, remembering he’d been so upset about her becoming an orphan. He’d never asked how Mom died or anything along those lines. He’d been so stuck in feeling guilty over never having been there for Roxie. Oh, god. Was her mom right?

  “See? He loves you more than me. Now get out!” Mom gave her a dismissive wave, then stood over the gurney with her hands planted on the padding.

  The energy in the room shifted from rage to sorrow. Mom’s hunched figure became enveloped in a ring of darkness that blocked the sunlight from filtering past her. Roxie’s heart wrenched for her mother. As poorly as she’d been treated by her, Roxie still wanted her to find happiness. She drew closer but stayed outside arm’s reach, just in case. Sekiro hovered next to her, face lined with worry. Roxie mustered her best soothing tone. “Mom, I still love you. I want you to be happy.”

  “Then get out.”

  “I want you and dad to be together.”

  Mom whipped around to face her, her teary eyes full of shock. “Where... why?”

  “I want to see you happy. I want to help you.” She meant it, too. It was so hard to bear all the hateful words her mother had spewed. Doing something to earn her mother’s love wasn’t ideal, but if it brought her soul peace, then it was worth it. Not exactly satisfying, but still worth it. She had to try.

  Sekiro said, “Roxie, you can’t promise such a thing. You’re not a Numina.” She hesitated, then said, “Besides, his soul’s journey is at a different stage than hers.”

  “Can’t you find another Numina to help her?”

  “One will help her when she is ready.”

  Mom’s face turned a livid red. She spoke in a dangerously low voice. “You led me on again?” The darkness surrounding her slowly swelled an inch at a time, growing as Mom’s anger escalated. “He died before me, without me. He died because of you. Died because he was in such a hurry to see you. Not me; you. If you’d never been conceived we’d still be alive and happily married. But now we’re apart because of you! Get out!” She pushed Roxie with both hands, but her force felt like nothing more than a thump on Roxie’s cuirass. She didn’t even come close to losing balance. However, when her mother’s eyes widened, she took a step back. “You’re alive,” she said in disbelief.

  Sekiro stepped between Roxie and Mom, reached for Roxie’s shoulders and tried to turn her around. “Time to go.”

  Roxie instead backed a few steps towards the door.

  “Don’t go just yet,” Mom said, her poker face trying to hide a grin.

  Sekiro turned, but stayed between mother and daughter.

  Mom took one small step closer. “Two things,” she said, her intense gaze fixed on Sekiro. “First, how is she alive here?�
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  “We don’t know, but I’m trying to help her get out. Thanatos doesn’t appreciate her presence.”

  “How interesting.” She slid another step closer. The other two took another step back. “Can’t you help me get out of here, too?”

  “Only one soul per Numina. I’m sorry, no.”

  Mom took a third step, her eyes full of rage. “Then get another over here. I’m sick and tired of being stuck in this hospital, sick and tired of reliving going through labor and dying over and over. I want out!”

  Sekiro waved for Roxie to keep backing out of the room. “Roxie, we need to go now.” Her tone made it perfectly clear to not argue.

  Roxie backed up slowly, torn between getting to safety or staying and trying to find another way to help her mother. This wasn’t the way she wanted to leave her.

  Mom followed them. “Don’t you dare leave me behind to go through all that again! Get me my own Numina.”

  Roxie stopped in the doorway. Sekiro bumped into her and gave her an angry look. Mom stopped just outside of arm’s reach. “Can’t you call one to her or something?”

  Sekiro took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled open-mouthed. “Dana, there’s always at least one of us watching over you, waiting for you.”

  “Stop watching and waiting and help me out of here instead!”

  “We can’t help you until you want to be helped.”

  “I do want to be helped!” Mom said, exasperated.

  “Not like that,” Sekiro said calmly, “and you know it. You’ve already tried leaving this hospital on your own, but your soul gets sent back every time.”

  “Yes, and I don’t know why.”

  Sekiro hesitated, then turned her back on Mom. She more pushed than guided Roxie out into the hallway, which was dark and oppressive. It lacked the rage and anguish suffocating the birthing room, but it was equally discomforting a place. Two shadow people still stood guard down the hall, and a few more stood near the main junction. Several more blocked off the far end of the hall, which was a gloomy dead end. There was so little light everywhere.

  “Tell me why!”

  Sekiro gave Roxie a pained grimace. She whispered to her to get ready to run, then turned and faced Mom. “You already know why. You just refuse to accept it.”

  Mom gave the Numina a murderous glare, then, with a snarl, lunged at her with both bloody hands.

  Sekiro had barely reacted to the lunge when Roxie circled around her and threw her shield arm between her and her mother, whose hands went right through her, shield and all. She stopped with her cold hands clamped around Sekiro’s throat, the Numina’s hands grasping Mom’s wrists. They all held that triangle formation for a heartbeat, then Sekiro wrenched herself free and staggered out of reach, hands over her neck. Mom twisted her reach and clamped onto Roxie’s shield arm. Roxie gasped and her whole body went rigid.

  “You are so full of energy,” Mom said with a wicked grin. “How nice of you to give your mother some.”

  Roxie tried to pull away but, like before, her movements felt leaden, devoid of their superhuman strength and speed. Her arm swung outwards, but Mom easily swung with it and maintained her icy grip.

  “I was wondering why your presence felt so... lively. You’re not going to survive long here.” Her form began to fill out as life poured back into her.

  “Then let me go.” Roxie’s voice came out strained. “You’re killing me.”

  Mom squeezed harder. Her grip wasn’t strong enough to crush Roxie’s arm, but it was almost strong enough to cut off blood flow. “And I would care why?” she said with a raised eyebrow.

  Roxie wanted to vomit. The icy grip, the unrelenting emotional blows, and now the draining of her life energy into the most uncaring mother in the world--this was a horrible time to find her breaking point. She reached with her free hand and clamped onto one of Mom’s wrist. To her thin relief, her hand found a solid hold. She took a deep breath and pried off one of her mother’s icy hands.

  Sekiro came around Roxie’s left side and shoved Mom in the shoulder. Mom toppled sideways and would’ve fallen if Roxie hadn’t been holding on to her. Mom kicked Sekiro in the stomach and the Numina dropped to the floor.

  Sekiro gasped for breath and coughed several times. “Roxie, you have to get out of here.”

  “I know,” Roxie said unhappily. She gazed at her mother, who gave her a closed-mouth smile as she continued leeching Roxie’s life energy. She began to feel cold on the inside. She held all her limbs taut, not wanting to give her mother the satisfaction of seeing how much Roxie had been weakened. “Let me go,” she said in a low voice.

  Mom let out one cold-hearted laugh. “I’m sucking you dry. This much energy is bound to get me out of here.”

  “Okay.” Roxie took a deep breath and, closing her eyes, slipped into an emotionally cold state as she drew her sword with a metallic hiss. She wanted calm, but anger filled her. Her own mother behaving so cruelly towards her for no good reason got under her skin. She opened her eyes. This woman standing before her would always be her birth mother. Nothing more. It was just a fact of her life, but that’s it: just a fact, no love attached. Grandma was her real mother. Always has, always will be. She held her glowing sword with the point between them, just below their chins. “I’ll hurt you if I have to.” Even with her calm front, rage roiled underneath.

  Mom glanced at the sword then met Roxie’s glance with her brows raised. “Oo, someone can make her eyes glow white.” She seized Roxie by the throat, lifted her off the ground, then stomped forward and slammed Roxie against the wall, making it moan and vibrate. Mom brought her face close to Roxie’s. “I dare you to try and hurt me.”

  The impact stung a little, but nothing she couldn’t shrug off. Eyeing her mother’s cut wrists, Roxie’s detached state faltered ever so slightly and her stomach churned, but she looked away as she cut through her mom’s wrists. She dropped to her feet. Immediate relief washed over her, despite her fatigue. She was going to have to stop for food and rest once she got out of this mess.

  Mom stared in open-mouth disbelief at her stumps, which ended in blackness, like a pair of black sticks. She looked at Roxie, then back at her stumps. She tilted her head back and let out a ear-piercing shriek, her hair dancing in a halo, and the darkness surrounding her spread.

  Roxie helped Sekiro up, who hesitated a moment before running towards the end of the hall. Roxie walked. Running would get her blood pumping and right now her anger wanted to take over. Her mother’s wrath was assailing her in waves, feeding her with the desire to swing her sword at anything that moved. Roxie’s anger was mounting with every blow she took. She’d come with the intention to offer help and seek closure, but had received nothing but one emotional blow after the other. And now her own life energy was being used as a weapon against her. She could count the number of times in her life she’d lost her temper on one hand. It was getting harder and harder to not add one more.

  Sekiro turned. “Roxie, please run!”

  At least the Numina had the decency to ask, instead of order her around. Roxie hopped into an easy jog, glowing sword still in hand. She caught up to Sekiro, who was hopping in place ten sets of doors from the exit.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Mom’s voice filled the entire hallway, and so did the darkness. It filled in all the corners where wall met floor and ceiling, then spread like a spill, blocking every last door, including the emergency exit that led to stairs. The glow from Roxie’s sword became the only source of light in the hall, outlining dozens upon dozens of shadow people. There had to be at least three rows squished together, standing along each side of the hall, the front line outside arm’s reach. Their presence thinned her forced calm even more. If any of them attacked, she was going to find a way to take every last one of them down.

  Sekiro gasped. “Run for the exit. They all know where you are!”

  Roxie stopped and glared at the shadow people looming before her. They lurched towards her, amorphous arms
reaching, and a few heartbeats later coldness seized her. Instead of panicking, she lost hold of her calm. First her mother and now them, who’d attracted every last one of them to Roxie. This was the end of getting pushed around and fed off of.

  Remembering how Aerigo had used his strength of will to overpower Nexus, Roxie focused on what she wanted to happen to the shadow people. She pulled her arms to her, resting the flat of her blade over her shield, and concentrated. With a thought and outward fling of her arms, she slammed every last shadow person into the wall, the ones leeching her making louder thuds. Those who had yet to latch on hit the walls with faint thuds no fiercer than rain pattering against wood. The shadow people latched to her dropped to their feet and reeled themselves into her. Their light weight tugged at her arms and their icy touch slowed her movements. Roxie decapitated the shadow person holding on to her shoulder. Its form vanished and the iciness waned. She aimed at the second shadow holding on to the same shoulder and gave it a warning glare. It remained attached and didn’t pull its eyeless gaze away from her shoulder. She stabbed it in the throat and it vanished as well.

  The shadows latched to her right arm finished solidifying and let go. They were hospital patients wearing only smocks. She faced them as more shadow people recovered from their brief flight and latched to her wings and back. With a thought and snap of her wings, she sent them back into the wall. However, she could still feel their icy touch weakening her. On top of that, the quartet of solidified shadow people were filling her mind with thoughts of her laying down and just letting all of them feast on her life energy. If she didn’t handle them all quickly, she was going to succumb to their sheer numbers.

  One of the quartet came at her with claw-like fingers and swiped at her face. It might as well have tried knocking her out with a leaf. Roxie swung her sword through its waist and it vanished. The other three tackled her but they felt like they weighed maybe five pounds apiece. She swung her sword arm and bashed the attached shadow person into the ground. Before she could follow it with a slash from her sword, it vanished. She turned her weapon and stabbed right by her ear. That one vanished, too. She finished off the last one trying to pry her shield off, then turned and woodenly faced the shadow people latched to her, breathing heavily. She felt cold enough to have her teeth start chattering. There had to be at least thirty of them with tendrils coiled around her torso. She looked like she was wearing a heavy black dress kicked up by a gust.